


The Space Between Us

by Scylla87



Series: Scofield Family Feels [1]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Angst and Feels, Camping, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, happy-ish ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla87/pseuds/Scylla87
Summary: Newly returned from the dead, Michael attempts to bond with his son while out camping.





	The Space Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> I, like everyone else, really wanted there to be a little more interaction between Michael and Mike in season 5. But I tend to be a lot more angst ridden than a lot of people, so I wasn't really that upset that Mike never called him dad or that they didn't have this great bonding moment the second they met. I know that a lot of people were really upset, but I personally didn't find it all that realistic for them to immediately click. At this point Michael is kind of a myth to his son, and I would imagine that it's not easy to navigate having your father suddenly come back from the dead. Plus, you have to think about the fact that Mike had a father figure. And while we realize that Jacob needs to be boiled in oil (or some other incredibly painful medieval punishment), Mike is still pretty young. I don't think that he is able to fully understand everything that happened. (Nor do I think either Michael or Sara would have given him the full story. Not because they're trying to deceive him, but because he is a child.)
> 
> I guess what I'm saying is that it's one thing to wish that your father was around; it's another for said father to suddenly come into your life when you're seven. And also have an important figure in your life disappear at the same time. (Because as much as we hate Jacob and know he is responsible for all of this, a child wouldn't. It'd be confusing for him.) I feel like relationships are something you have to build at. And they should have already had all this time to build a relationship, but the reality is that they haven't. (Fuck you Jacob Ness!) I wouldn't imagine that they would instantly be best friends.
> 
> So, when I read all of the really cute stories people wrote between them, I liked them, but they left me feeling lacking. This story is kind of my answer to that. I want them to have a great relationship as much as the rest of you, but I think they need time. I think they will get there one day. Kind of where I am coming from with this, is that Michael is trying to have a relationship with his son while still understanding that Mike might need some space to adjust to his life drastically changing very suddenly. Also, while I was writing this, and leading up to writing this, the thing I kept coming back to is that Michael himself knows what it is like to grow up without a father and then have that father show up out of the blue. He even knows that excuse "I did it for you", and I think knows just how little that explanation helps. Which is why he never gives it in the story. But I think having grown up like he did, he knows, or a least suspects, a little of what is going on inside Mike's head and is trying to respect that while working to build the bond they should have had. For me writing it, it was kind of a delicate balance.
> 
> I'm sorry if this makes anyone sad. It made me a little sad when I wrote it. But I do hope that you enjoy it. I might have made some choices that you disagree with, so I would love to have some feedback. This is actually my first Gen story and first Prison Break fic as well. I haven't written in a while, so anything that you guys can do to help me improve is always welcome. I hope to write more PB stories in the future, and I will try to ease off on the angst.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading my fic.

Michael sat down with a sigh. This had been a bad idea; he was sure of it. He looked over at the tent he had just finished constructing. Why had he imagined that dragging his son on a camping trip would be a good idea? He remembered the words coming out of his mouth, waiting for the small shrug that was the only response that Mike seemed willing to give.

He watched as his son shuffled back into view. Mike still wore his backpack slung across his shoulders. He'd kept it on the whole time he helped to set up camp. Michael wondered if that was a sign the boy wanted to leave. He worked to smile good naturedly. What was he supposed to do now? He'd drug his son all the way out to the woods, and he didn't even know if Mike liked camping. Another thing a father was supposed to know about his child. He should start compiling a list.

Michael longed more than anything to say just the right thing in this moment, in every moment with his son, but the words would never come. When he tried the words got stuck in his throat. There was so much he didn't know about Mike. He could never bring himself to ask the questions, the answers of which should have been somewhere deep inside his head. All the time he had spent away, all the things he did not know, left a dull ache in his chest he couldn't find a way to fill. And now here they were, completely alone, and he had no clue what to say.

Mike drug his feet upon the ground as he walked to the log his father sat on. He sat down beisde him without a word, but Michael couldn't help but notice the small space the boy left between them. He was always careful to maintain the distance between them. As Michael watched Mike finally pulled the bag from his shoulders and transfered it to his lap. The boy sat there gripping it tightly. Michael cleared his throat. "If you're afraid it'll get dirty, we can put it in the tent." He reached out to grab the backpack, but Mike pulled it closer to his chest. Michael snatched his hand back. "You don't have to."

The wind whistled through the trees, almost covering Mike's response. "I don't want to lose it." It was the first thing he'd said since they left.

Michael nodded. He looked up at the sky for a moment. "It'll be dark soon," he said. "We should probably get the fire started."

Mike's voice was small. "We're staying?" He glanced at Michael uncertainly.

Michael frowned slightly. He struggled to marshall his thoughts into words. "Do you not want to stay? Do you want to go home?"

Mike looked anywhere he could but at his father. He clutched his bag to his chest so tightly that it dug into his arms. He didn't attempt to answer the question. Michael tried not to watch him so intently, but his son's reaction was hard to read. He was afraid to say the wrong thing. It took him a few false starts before he was able to get his mouth to say what he wanted. "We could," he began hesitantly "go home. If you wanted." He noticed the increased tension in his son's shoulders. "I won't be angry."

Mike glanced at him briefly but was quick to look away. Michael continued speaking. "I wanted to stay awhile, but if you don't like camping..." He let his voice trail off.

"You don't have to," Mike said faintly. He voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't have to what?"

Mike's eyes shifted nervously between the trees. "Pretend."

Michael glanced away. He repeated the word softly to himself. The boy beside him had lasped into a kind of nervous silence that he wasn't sure he knew how to fill. "I do do that a lot, pretend. But I don't want to pretend with you." He shot a look sideways at his son. "Do you think that I pretend with you?"

Mike shrugged. "I know that Mom told you. That's why you said you'd come."

Michael frowned again. "Your mom didn't tell me anything." He paused for a moment. "What would she have told me?"

He watched his son out of the corner of his eye. He weighed his words carefully. "That you and," he took a deep breath, "Jacob used to go camping?"

Mike shook his head fiercely. He clung to his backpack like it was a life preserver. Michael fought to keep his voice even, to choose his words carefully. "Did you want to?" He studied Mike for a moment before turning away. He could feel his son shifting on the log beside him. "If you did want to that's okay. I wouldn't be mad."

"Once," Mike whispered.

"Oh," Michael said. He fought to put a smile on his face as he turned to look at Mike. "Did you have fun?"

"No."

"No? Why not? You didn't like camping?" Michael was careful not to watch him too intently.

Mike shrugged. "We didn't stay." He shifted again. "He got mad at me because I said that I wished-" He shot Michael a scared look and refused to say more. "I left my stuff," he added faintly.

Michael could sense that he shouldn't push the subject. "I'm sorry about that. I wish you'd enjoyed it."

"Even though you don't like Jacob?" Mike shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. His look was probing, a test.

"Yes," Michael said slowly, "Even though I don't like Jacob." He smiled sadly.

Mike nodded. They both looked off into the distance as Michael tried to find the right words to say. He always had to be careful how he talked about Jacob in front of Mike. There was so much he knew his son was struggling with. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and push Mike even further away. He knew what it was like to be a child and not understand why someone you cared about had to go away. How was he supposed to explain to his son that someone he cared about wasn't worth it without hurting him further? He opened his mouth to try to but was surprised to find his words about a completely different child's pain.

"When I was little, younger than you in fact, my dad went away. Work took him away and he felt that it was best for us, me and Lincoln, if he left. But I didn't know that then. I just knew that he wasn't around, that he'd left us, that all the other boys had fathers. I was angry at him for a long time." He looked sideways at Mike for a second before looking away. "Even when I found him again, learned the truth, I was still a little mad at him. It wasn't a switch I could just flip on and off. Knowing the reasons didn't erase the fact that he left, that he'd hurt me. Growing up all I ever wanted was a father, to do all the things that the other boys got to do with their dads. It was easy for me, unsuccessfully, to try and find someone to fill the role he'd left behind, and not all of the people I found measured up. Some of them hurt me even more than he had, made that hole I had in my heart bigger. All I ever really had was your Uncle Lincoln. He was the closest thing to a father I ever had." He paused, looking back across years of pain he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to process.

"I guess I understand-" He couldn't bring himself to say the words. He cleared his throat and continued, "I could tell you that I had my reasons, and maybe one day you'll be old enough to understand them. But they won't ever make up for the fact that I left you." He glanced at Mike again.

"And Jacob was here. He had his reasons too. But that doesn't really matter, does it? I understand that you cared about him, loved him even, and I'm sure that you miss him. That's okay. There are a lot of things that you don't understand now, and a part of me hopes that you never come to know the whole truth." His eyes took on a haunted look. "Because I know how that feels too."

Michael stopped for a moment. "I just want you to know that I'm not upset with you. None of this is your fault. I know that you need time, space. I promise to be here whenever you're ready."

Mike rested his chin on the backpack still held against his chest. "Can we stay?" he asked softly.

Michael looked over at him. "Of course we can stay."

Mike nodded. He continued to stare off into the distance in silence, but Michael thouhgt that maybe, just maybe he wasn't imagaining that the space between them was just a little bit smaller.


End file.
